Vocalization
by Iapetus
Summary: It sneaks up on Nathaniel every time, the sheer force of his need to hear Anders moan, to cry out, until the first sound is uttered.


Many thanks to Autumnyte (from Tumblr) for the beta job, and SpicyShimmy (also from Tumblr) for encouraging me to write this.

Also, warning! Here there be smut.

* * *

In their bedroom, Anders is vocal.

It sneaks up on Nathaniel every time, the sheer force of his need to hear Anders moan, to cry out, until the first sound is uttered. It is rare when the first one is loud, and he actually likes it more when they're not. Not that first one.

Tonight, it's a sigh.

Nathaniel is sucking on the pulse beneath Anders' jaw when he hears it. And though he can't see it, he imagines Anders' eyes fluttering shut. He needs no imagination to feel the fingers dig into the small of his back, to feel the press urging their bodies closer together.

Nathaniel knows of Anders' trysts in the Circle. Quick things that the mages tried to hide from the Templars. Anders knows how to be quiet, but with Nathaniel, he is not.

He catches the pulse with his teeth, the pressure light, and he flicks his tongue out to taste Anders' skin. There is no salt of sweat yet, but that will change soon.

The next one isn't a sigh, but a sharp intake of breath.

His armor is no issue, shed hours ago after training for the day was done. Anders hooks his fingers into Nathaniel's breeches from the back and moves them with agonizing slowness until they are at the front and toying with the drawstring.

"Impatient?" Nathaniel murmurs, his lips now close to Anders' ear.

"Well," Anders says, "I get to see you with clothes all the time, and 'without' is so much better." He pulls the drawstring from its tie, but makes no move to loosen them further.

"But patience is rewarded." His own hand reaches to undo the clasps underneath the embroidery on Anders' robes. "At least when I have any say in the matter."

"You want me to take notes at a time like this? Really, Nathaniel."

They grow quiet as they undress each other, save for soft sighs and kisses that brush against newly uncovered skin. When they are both naked and their clothes pushed well out of the way, Nathaniel mouths down Anders' body until he is eye level with Anders' cock. He says nothing before taking the tip into his mouth and curling his fingers around the base.

He doesn't linger there long, despite the thrill of holding down Anders' hips as he tries to buck into his mouth,. Anders is hard as he gives one last pull from his lips, from where his fingers rest to the tip of the now-swollen cock. He tastes precome in his mouth and swallows it before Anders rises from the bed into a sitting position and pulls him into another kiss.

For a moment, that's all they can do – kiss each other before their hands remember themselves and explore areas not yet touched. Every nerve in Nathaniel's body is alive, and focuses on each spot Anders brushes against him.

Anders' breaths are short against his ear and his hand weaves into dark hair. "Know what you want, then?"

Tonight there is no question in Nathaniel's mind. "May I?" His fingers rest at Anders' entrance, playing with the ring of muscle.

Anders' breathy sigh of a 'yes' is the only encouragement Nathaniel needs. From the nightstand, he pulls out a vial of oil that he wets his fingers with before closing it again and setting it out of the way. Anders' own fingers tighten in his hair as he pushes the first one in. He can feel Anders willing his body to relax, and it isn't long before Nathaniel slips a second finger in.

He can taste the sweat now as he kisses Anders' shoulder, his grip tightening on Anders' hip as he scissors his fingers. The cry Anders makes is more pleasure than pain, and Nathaniel swears that sound goes directly to his cock. His desire is almost too much to bear, and it is so tempting to ask Anders to stroke him while he works, but he waits. In times like these, in moments like these, all Nathaniel wants to do is make Anders feel incredible.

But Maker, he needs to _hear_ it.

"Nathaniel," Anders whispers, "Nathaniel, I-"

His voice is cut off mid-sentence by a moan, one that lingers when Anders tries to swallow it away. It is a reluctant gesture, doomed to fail from the start, and Nathaniel knows he only does it because he's trying to speak.

The resistance Nathaniel feels inside Anders slackens fraction by fraction as he works The both of them are drawing in short breaths.

Looking up at Anders' face, eyes lidded and mouth parted, makes his heart skip a beat. For a moment, Nathaniel doesn't know what he wants first. To kiss Anders, to probe deeper so that his eyes slide shut. Or maybe to push him down on the bed.

Anders makes the decision for the both of them, when Nathaniel feels fingers around his wrist, stilling the preparations inside. "Nathaniel," Anders says, "Nathaniel, I need you."

It is Nathaniel's turn to gasp in need, and after one last crook of his fingers, he slides them out. He bites his lower lip and he slicks oil over his cock, then presses the head of it at Anders' opening.

"Say it again," he whispers.

Nathaniel's grip tightens on Anders' hip, keeping the man from sliding back onto him before those words are spoken. Nathaniel knows he can only do this because the wait will not be long.

Anders moans again as Nathaniel moves his cock, his hand guiding it so the tip plays at Anders' opening. He can feel the strain of Anders' hips as he does so.

"Fuck," Anders chokes, taking in a shaky breath. "Nathaniel, _please_."

He waits for only a few moments longer, enough make Anders start to wonder, before tension in his arm goes slack as he lets Anders slide onto him. It is a slow and blissful crawl, and Nathaniel cannot help but watch. When their bodies are flush together, Nathaniel can barely think. His grip tightens again and he arches his hips.

Anders gives the barest of nods, and without saying anything Nathaniel draws himself out, but stops just short of leaving him. He tries for a deep breath before pushing in again, but it is cut off when Anders pushes back, hard.

"_Nathaniel!_"

No one can say his name like Anders does.

The sounds are almost deafening to him, gathering together. The creak of the wood frame, the harshness of their breathing, and the varying volume of Anders' cries. The timbre of his voice swells with the deeper thrusts, and subsides to a more breathy thing with the shallow ones. Nathaniel craves them all, and feels the tension in his thighs and knees from the strain of movement in this position. But it is worth it – the way his senses become alive with each motion.

When he is buried in Anders again, his other hand moves to caress Anders' thigh. Soon he drags his nails closer to Anders' cock.

Sometimes, when they choose this position, Anders is the one to touch himself and Nathaniel watches from behind. Anders likes having his hips gripped like Nathaniel does – like there is nothing else to cling to – and he enjoys giving Nathaniel a show. But tonight it is Nathaniel that needs to touch him, to feel the hot flesh in his hand and know that it is _his_ touch that brings Anders over the edge. Anders does not protest.

He can feel Anders' hands, scratching and gripping for purchase, as his body arches. It is tempting to push Anders down on the bed, on his back, so that Nathaniel can climb on top of him. So that when they move together, he can feel Anders clawing at his back. He leaves marks when he does, though they are gone by the morning with a carefully-placed heal spell.

But there is something wonderful in the ache of his thighs and his chest against Anders' back, something he won't let go of, and that will have to wait for another time.

He sees Anders lift his arm up, and feels his hand cup the back of his neck. It is a firm but gentle grip, one that Nathaniel tilts his head back to feel. His eyes are mere slits and he can feel Anders' hair on his neck, on his collarbone, and then the more defined trace of his nose. For a moment Nathaniel's hand slows, giving a firm squeeze, and a twist of his wrist. Anders turns in his grasp, brushing their lips together.

When words are not enough, they kiss each other, again and again. Nathaniel's hips are still moving, changing to something more frantic, and Anders holds himself in place with one hand at Nathaniel's neck and the other on his forearm. Each moan they both make is soon swallowed by another kiss.

They move together until it is too much. The kiss they are sharing when the tightness unravels is broken by Nathaniel's gasp. His hand pauses, still wrapped around Anders' cock, while he can only think of his own. Anders, still hard, waits for Nathaniel to finish and rests their foreheads together.

After a steadying breath, and then another, Nathaniel regains some semblance of control over his body and returns his attention to Anders' arousal. The motions are quick and Anders tilts his head back to rest on Nathaniel's shoulder – closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

And then Nathaniel feels it – the bite of nails into his neck, Anders' body arching away from his – and a cry that he knows are for his ears alone. He moves his hand from Anders' hip to his chest, holding him as the built-up tension flows out of him. He strokes him until he is done – ignoring the mess on his fingers for the moment – and kisses the crook of his neck.

Nathaniel's heart is pounding; he can feel it as Anders' back presses against his chest. They remain like that for a few moments longer, still joined, pleasure fading from that last sharp spike to the content and dull reverberation through their bodies. And as he raises his hand to lick it clean, Anders stops him to do it instead. Nathaniel's breath catches again.

This never gets old.

As their breaths start to slow, Nathaniel separates their bodies with care. They lie down side by side and Anders traces the lines of muscle on Nathaniel's chest. This is something he always does, no matter what, and Nathaniel has come to expect it. And it is a comfort, of sorts.

He leans in to kiss Anders while his taste is still on his lips, slow and deep. Anders takes him in, and as he does, Nathaniel's hand moves to the small of his back.

When the kiss is broken, Nathaniel keeps his eyes closed. Anders is still close enough that he can feel his breath on his face.

Nathaniel opens his eyes to see that he is being watched. That's when a smile forms – and Nathaniel knows that this one is a rarity as well. Perhaps not just for him, but not given to just anyone either. It is a combination of his telltale smirk, but there is also a kindness, a knowing, in his eyes.

Nathaniel feels honored to see it.

When Anders sighs, Nathaniel cannot help the small smile that appears on his own face. This is the best sound of them all – of lust stated and something else Nathaniel dare not try to label.

In their bedroom Anders is vocal; Nathaniel knows he does it for his sake.


End file.
